


Can't catch nothing but a chill

by jesseofthenorth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-28 11:19:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesseofthenorth/pseuds/jesseofthenorth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written in October for "Again but with More Colds "<br/>for the prompt:Sam has a space-out moment when he goes out to get Dean some pie and it’s raining outside. He’s out in the rain for hours before Dean (on crutches) finds him. He gets sick, yo.</p><p>contains Spoilers for s7e3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't catch nothing but a chill

Dean wakes up in the dark. Which really isn’t that weird except for the fact that it's dark and its cold and the cabin is dead quiet and he is trapped on the sofa with a broken leg.

He was expecting pie.

It took him a minute to fight his way up through the fog in his head enough to realize why that was significant. Sam was going to get him pie. For lunch. It was dark. Lunch was obviously long over, but where the hell was Sam?

Dean pushed himself up unsteadily on the ratty old sofa. “Sam?” he called. The only sound he got in return was the steady rain outside. “Crap.” What the hell kind of mess had Sam got himself into now?  
Dean got his crutches under himself and stumped toward the door grumbling and bitching all the way.

The Impala was still in the yard. Dean looked back to the shelf just inside the porch where Sam had taken to putting his wallet and crap when he came in. His wallet and cell phone where both gone.

'Well that simplified things' Dean thought.

As he hobbled toward the car he pulled out his own cell and called his brother. He stood by the car door waiting to hear a ring nearby or for for Sam to pick up. After the requisite number of rings it went to voice mail. “Crap” he huffed, struggled behind the wheel and started the car. Sam had probably decided to walk to town instead of driving. Where ever the hell he was or how he got there, something was sure as hell wrong, no matter what Dean wanted to hope.

“I hope he took his damned jacket” Dean bitched as he dropped the car into gear and headed down the dirt track that served as a driveway.

It didn’t take long to find him, even in the dark and the pouring rain. Sam was standing in the middle of the road about a hundred yards from where it turned on to the main drag. He was staring at the trees, head cocked to one side. He didn’t even flinch when the Impala slid to a stop, bumper less than five feet from him, the car sliding a bit on the muddy track. Sam didn’t look up or try to get out of the way. He just kept staring raptly at the blank wall of the dark forest.

“Sam god dammit! What the hell are you _doing?_ ” Dean threw the door of the car open and yelled. Sam didn’t move.“Aw shit, Sammy.”  
Dean stumbled his way out of the car dragging his crutches with him.

Sam was soaked. Wet right through, water running down his face. Dean flinched when he saw rain hitting him in the eye and Sam wasn't even blinking. Just standing there letting it run off him. “Sam?” Dean asked quietly. But there was nothing. Sam's face was gray, his lips blue and he just stood there slack jawed letting the rain wash him away.

Dean reached out gently trying not to spook his brother. He needn't have bothered. Sam didn't react at all.

It took Dean a few minutes of pushing gently and thank fuck Sam went when prodded. Dean eventually got his brother folded into the front seat of the car. By the time he was in Deans leg was throbbing and they were both soaked through. The leather on the front seat was pooled with water where Sam sat, still as stone. Dean didn’t even spare it a glance just pulled open the back seat door and tried not to fall on his ass while he scrounged around for a blanket to cover Sam's soaking wet body.

The heater barely had time to impact Sam's condition before Dean had them back at the cabin. It was no harder to get Sam out of the car but it was no easier either. This time it was just pull instead of push.

The worst part was when the both almost took a header right at he front step where the ground had turned to mud and Dean couldn’t find purchase with his crutches. Dean saved himself from falling completely but he couldn’t save Sam at all. If Dean was a man prone to thinking in metaphors he would have noticed the irony in that. Instead he just did his best to haul his soaked muddy checked-out brother inside before they both froze to death.

It was long past time for them both to be inside.

  
It took him almost an hour to get Sam out of his wet clothes and then get a fire going. Dean put a kettle on in hopes of getting a warm drink into Sam. Dean tried to ignore the tired tremble in his arms and the pain steadily building in his leg.

The entire time Sam continued to stare at the far wall. Dean didn’t spend any time thinking about it, just did what he needed to do. Talking to his brother all the way through hoping the sound of a familiar voice would make it down to where ever Sam was. Dean washed the mud off Sam's face taking care around his unblinking eyes. He held the cup of cocoa, pathetically grateful that his brother swallowed when prompted instead of letting the hot liquid dribble down his chin as Dean had half expected. By the time the cabin was warm again Sam was shivering and Dean was dammed grateful for that too. Aside from being proof that Sam was getting warmer, it was the shivering that seemed to bring Sam back.

Dean was tucking the blankets around his brothers shaking form when Sam blinked twice and his eyes came slowly back to focus, seeming to see his brother for the first time. “D-Dean?” Sam asked his voice shaking and cracking.

“Hey Sammy. Welcome back” he finished wrapping his brother up in the dusty blankets he'd found in the back of the closet.

“Tired” Sam whispered slowly blinking and starting to list heavily to the left.

“Well go to sleep then” Dean said gently and did his best to help his brother lift his legs up on to the sofa.

Dean threw another blanket over him. He piled the fire high with what wood was left hoping it was enough, but to damn sore and tired to do much if it wasn't. He looked down the hall toward the very enticing bed before turning toward Rufus ' ratty old recliner parked by the fire. No way was he sleeping more than 10 feet from Sam. The recliner was better than the floor.

He managed to sleep until the first touch of gray cut through he dark of the night.

The sound of a terrible hacking cough snapped him instantly awake. Sam was sitting up but doubled over, coughing fit to lose a lung. Dean sighed and fumbled for his crutches. Sam just couldn’t catch a break.  
Dean stumped down the hall toward the bathroom hoping like hell there was something in there for a cough and hoping even further it wasn’t so far past expired it was useless. Didn't much matter. Dean would do whatever Sam needed. It would just be easier if he didn’t have to make a run in for meds.

He hobbled back to the couch. Nyquil clutched in his hand. It was a close to a break as they were getting today. He plopped down heavily on the sofa beside his brother and rubbed his back waiting for Sam to catch a breath. Dean knew his brother was pretty far gone when he half leaned into him. “You're gonna be okay Sam. I gotcha”


End file.
